Blasphemy
by Flick-tron
Summary: Miley, Lilly, and Oliver are stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, as they try to overcome the troubles of teenage love. Romance, drama and love follow when plans fail. Moliver/Loliver unfortunate . Enjoy!


Legal crap. I don't own, partially own, or have any connection with any of the characters written about in this story.

This is a FICTIONAL story. If any situations occur in the story, and have occurred in your life, it is simply coincidental.

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Chapter 1

Death. Death is simple. Easy. Painless, so to speak.

She lived a good life. Famous in her own world. She lived through romance, many a time, and enjoyed every moment of it. Her hobbies were great. She learned so much from them. Her friends, even better. The great memories she had of them playing, laughing and joking around. She had few material possessions, but the few she had, she loved. Too bad it was all about to end.

The hospital. It resided 5 and a half blocks east of her house. It was an old hospital, had great service. The old brick was already fading, and the once golden copper roof, now green. Her room was white, tinted ever so slightly towards blue. She lay on a very comfortable bed. The bed sheets were mostly all white. The pillow, delightfully comfortable. When she looked around, all she could see was a stucco ceiling. What she couldn't see was almost as beautiful as her. Fashionable cabinetry, beautiful drapery, elegant tiled flooring, inspired by the stereotype of modern style.

The instruments were another story. Old is to put it lightly. The once pure white plastic casings were heavily tinted yellow and brown. The screens were cracked along the edges, but luckily still worked. The wiring was peeling, and had caked on gunk.

She had a tray of food in front of her. Blueberry muffin, OJ, and a fresh pancake with maple syrup. She ate every last morsel – painfully. She had trouble speaking, breathing, living. Her life went horrible before she know how or why. She was once on top, and now, well she is almost gone. Her friends were standing by her side. Giving her hope.

She knew her last breaths were coming. She needed to talk to them. She clutched him. "Live on," were the words that left her mouth – tears creeping down her face.

_Just a couple more to go._

Next was her. Again, "Live on," left her mouth. It was followed by "Be happy. Please," she begged. This was unusual, considering their recent rivalry, but it happened. It's now the past.

_Alright, last one._

"Bye." she managed to force out. With that, the atmosphere of the room changed completely. Everything seemed to stop for them. All the equipment, the meters, the dials – froze. The long buzzing sound from the meter closest to her woke her up from her sorrow. That annoying buzzing. It told a story in itself. It told the story of hope. The hope of the loved ones. The hope that they hung on to. The hope that got run over. Trampled upon. Destroyed.

"No!" she blurted out. "No, no, no!" Tears crawled down her cheeks. The tears touched her lips, cold, wet, salty. How she hated that taste. "Don't worry, she feels better." said the 19 year old teen beside her. He was 6 feet, 1 inch. He had long brown hair, almost down to his shoulders. It was styled very fashionably. He was blessed with deep brown eyes. He comforted her, hugging her passionately.

They stayed there. Standing. Waiting. Watching. They breathed in and out slowly, holding back the tears. They couldn't move, not a muscle. They were paralyzed.

"Hey." her dad said walking in. "It's time to go." She swung around. Her beautiful brown hair flowing through the air, forcing the teen to release his grasp on her. She darted to her dad. Tears started to soak his shirt once she got a hold of him. She had her head rested on his chest, just below the shoulder, crying. She couldn't stop. Not now, and most likely, not ever.

_She's gone. In a better place, but gone._

* * *

1 year 3 months ago . .

She woke up screaming. There was a faint glow of sweat on her forehead. She knew what she saw, but she didn't know whether to believe it or not. She was with her two best friends down by the beach. They were lying on the sand, wearing traditional beach wear. She lay still thinking why her friend leaned toward her other best friend – her male friend. That was all she could remember.

_What has happened? This is all wrong!_

She glanced at the clock. It read 11:39 AM. She had slept through breakfast. She stretched out her limbs, yawning, eyes taking in the room she had woken up to for many, many years. Her room was a pale pink. Her bed, clothed with maroon bed sheets. Her dresser was not average size. It was twice that. The deep brown wood complimented the silver and gold casings from the massive stash of makeup that was placed on the top.

Her closet was also not normal. Opening it, you could only see one row of clothing, but beyond that, was a set of doors that were inscribed with the letters H and M. Past those doors, there was a sanctuary of in-fashion clothing. She owned it all, but only for her second life. Rows and rows of shirts, skirts, and jeans. Many, many shoes to choose from. A line of earrings stretching the entire width of the hidden room. All of it, beautiful in its own way. She quickly got dressed. She chose the closest things to her. She wore navy blue jeans, a lime green tank top, and a deeper green sweater.

Downstairs, her dad was making sandwiches – ham, cheese, and Dijon mustard. It smelled delicious. She darted to the table. She knew her dad had put a sandwich there for her, once she came down.

_Oh wow! That smells delicious!_

In front of her, there were three things – her plate with the sandwich, her utensils, and a tall glass of chocolate milk. She ate so fast – So fast that you wouldn`t have known she was there. Within a couple minutes, all that was left of the food in front of her was an empty plate with crumbs from the bread, and a tall glass filled with nothing but the few droplets of chocolate milk that she couldn`t manage to gather.

"You are going to have a stomach ache soon. Be careful!" her dad yelled at her as she scrambled out the door.

_Nah. That won't happen._

Sure enough, it did. She couldn't manage 16 steps before her stomach was turning. She stumbled along towards the beach, in search of her friends, ignoring the pain of her stomach.

She found them. They were sitting at one of the tables near Rico's Surf Shack. They had a large strawberry banana shake between them – two straws protruding from the top.

_Sweet niblets!_

_

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To Be Continued.

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Positive and creative critisizm is welcome.


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